


Past Hauntings

by oflittleuse



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Ghosts, Haunting, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oflittleuse/pseuds/oflittleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen Smith has just moved into her new apartment when she starts to see a certain Blonde Knight everywhere she turns. A Blonde Knight that no one else can see and who seems to think he knows her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Hauntings

There was an autumn breeze in the air. Smokey and chilled, it stung her cheek and whipped her hair back. With dark fingers clutching her fall jacket, Gwen Smith ran across the parking lot carrying two large bags of groceries. The back door to her new apartment building was always impossibly hard to open. Fumbling with her keys, trying to juggle all her armful of food, she needed to ram her body against the door until it finally creaked open.

A loud meow greeted her as soon as she entered her place. Placing the groceries on the counter, she turned and smiled at the black cat sitting imperiously beside her food dish. With her tail swishing angrily and her green eyes trained onto Gwen, the cat was obviously impatient for its meal.

“Here you go Morgana,” Gwen said, smiling softly as she quickly poured some of the new cat food into her dish. “I don’t know why you need to be so picky, your highness, most other cats would be fine with regular kitten food.”

Morgana ignored her as she ate from her dish.

As Gwen straightened up, it was the first time she saw him. Standing, in her apartment, as clear as day, was a man. Blonde, blue eyes, tall ... and definitely not someone who Gwen knew, with a strangled yell, Gwen spun around to grab a knife from the kitchen drawer. By the time she had spun back around, armed, the man was gone. Carefully moving as quietly as she could, knife held defensively in front of her, she mimicked how cops on TV would go through a house. Luckily in her one-bedroom apartment there wasn’t too many hiding places.

She tried to listen for movement, but all she could hear was the sound of her heavy, uneven breathing and the frantic beat of her heart. With every step the knife in her hand shook more and more. The kitchen was clear, the living room was clear, the bedroom and closet were clear and the bathroom was also clear. Making sure the door was locked, she checked one more time. Nothing.

Morgana had finished eating and she know sat on the counter watching Gwen move cautiously around the apartment.

“I’m not crazy, right?” Gwen asked, setting down the knife finally and picking up Morgana. “There was a man here.”

\------------

It was two weeks later when Gwen saw the figure again. She was buying light bulbs in the local hardware store and suddenly there he was, at the end of the aisle, just staring at her. She thought her heart might actually stop, she also noticed, for the first time, that he was wearing chainmail. Who wore chainmail?

“You okay there?” the young assistant who had been stocking shelves beside her asked. “Did you need help finding something?”

“No, I,” Gwen could not have done more than blink and suddenly the man was gone. “Where’d he go?”

“Where’d who go?”

“The man, in the chainmail, where did he go?” Gwen asked, her heart still not back to a normal pace.

“Um, there’s no one there,” the assistant said gently, looking worriedly at Gwen. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, of course, I’m fine.”

Gwen forgot to get light bulbs that day.

\----

He started to appear more and more frequently. This sad, lonely figure haunted her. He always wore the same thing, the chainmail and the red fabric and cloak. Gwen now knew better than to try to point him out to anyone. It would appear she was the only one who could see him.

“Mmmmm, he sounds hunky,” Elena said over a beer.

“This isn’t funny.” Gwen whispered severely. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Well, at least you’re hallucinating about some hot guy, it could be worse,” Elena said, before their third beers were thunked down beside them. “Now, onto much more important discussions, do you think I can beat my best time?”

“How is that more important than my sanity or lack thereof?” Gwen asked, but Elena was already pulling out her Iphone and setting up a timer.

Grabbing the phone, Gwen nodded once she was ready. Wasting no time, Elena grabbed her beer and started chugging. Raising one hand in triumph, she downed the beer and slammed it back onto the table with a loud belch followed by a whoop of victory.

“You did it, you got two seconds below your all-time best,” Gwen admitted, shaking her head at her friend. “Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I am the only person you know here,” Elena said, looking much too serious for three alcoholic beverages in her system. Gwen had met Elena on her very first day as she moved into her apartment just over a month ago.

“That was impressive,” a guy cut into their conversation, his eyes taking in Elena’s messy blonde hair snug back into a ponytail, low-cut tank top, jeans and cowboy boots. “Maybe I can get you a new one?”

He gestured to her drink.

“Maybe we could dance?” Elena suggested. She always had a constant stream of guys around her, a date for every other night.

“I’ll just head home, Morgana is probably waiting for me to be at her beck and call,” Gwen said lightly. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will,” Elena said brightly, sending a saucy wink Gwen’s way. “I just love this time! So much better than at Camelot.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked. “I’ve never heard of Camelot. Is it a new pub?”

Elena looked up at Gwen, confused. “What’s a Camelot?”

“You just said ...” but before Gwen could finish, Elena had danced off with the stranger. As she grabbed her purse and turned to leave, Gwen spotted the familiar blonde hair across the dance floor.

\-----

_Gwen. You need to wake up. Please ... Gwen ..._

Bolting up in bed, Gwen let a terrified scream out at the sight of the blonde knight at the foot of her bed, staring down at her. Blindly reaching over to her bedside lamp, by the time light filled the room the ghostly figure had vanished.

\-----

Lips traced down the side of her neck, hands cupping her breasts. Clutching at the blonde hair as his lips finally reached her nipples, taking the hardened buds into his mouth, sending a shot of desire pulsing through her. Arching her back she called out.

“Arthur.”

Locking her knees around his waist, she lifted her hips to feel his erection straining in his trousers. With his lips panting heavily in her ear, he whispered, “my queen.”

Gasping awake, feeling jittery and turned on, Gwen did not yell at the sight of the unknown knight.

“Arthur?” Gwen asked softly. Smirking slightly, the knight faded away once more.

\-----

“I think I’m haunted,” Gwen said, the phone pressed between her shoulder and ear, as she finished up washing her dishes. “I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are,” Elena said sympathetically. “But that’s not what I asked. I asked where he was on the hotness scale.”

“And I’m pretending not to hear you.”

“Oh, come on, live a little.”

“He might be slightly over a ten.”

“I knew it! Seriously maybe he just wants a little action, you know?”

“Like, someone to solve his grisly murder type of action?”

“No, maybe he was chilling all undead and stuff, saw you move into your new place and is now reaching out from beyond the grave to have sex!”

“So what? You think he gave me that dream? Can ghosts do that?”

“Maybe, though knowing how little action you get maybe your subconscious is just trying to tell you to get laid.”

“Can you please be serious?”

“I am being serious, you need to get laid.”

“How am I supposed to find out who this man is?”

“Well ... he’s a knight called Arthur. How many knights called Arthur could there possibly be?”

\--------

There were a lot of knights called Arthur. And since photography wasn’t invented back then and apparently scribes did not find it imperative to write detailed descriptions of what people looked like, it was next to impossible to know which one might be her ghost.

Meanwhile, every night she would be riding Arthur in a bed with red blankets, or pinned under him on a blanket in the forest. Each time waking up to see her ghost waiting for her, just to disappear.

\-----

She was flipping through the television trying to decide between _Location, Location, Location_ or the _Doctor Who_ marathon when Arthur appeared this time.

“Wake up,” he said. Gwen felt a shiver run through her body; she had heard that voice in her dreams but ... she wasn’t asleep right now.

“I am awake,” Gwen said, trying to stay calm even though she was speaking to either a ghost or a hallucination.

“No, you need to wake up. You can’t let Morgana win.”

And Arthur was gone.

Glancing down at her cat sleeping peacefully on the other side of the couch, Gwen worried that maybe she really was going crazy.

\-----

“You are not going crazy,” Elena tried to assure her. “Well, maybe a little bit crazy, but as long as you aren’t trying to kill anyone because the voices in your head are telling you to, you’re okay.”

“Really?” Gwen asked. “That’s the line?”

“Yep, now help me pick a nice dress for my father’s business gala thing. I am completely useless when it comes to these formal type events. Last time my father tried to introduce me to this guy, I swear he was hoping we would get married or something, and I literally face-planted right in front of the guy.”

Laughing Gwen tried to forget about her visions and helped Elena get ready.

\----

Gwen was cleaning. Beyonce was singing to put a ring on it, the feather duster was in her hand, Morgana was watching from the windowsill and she had on her bright pink short shorts. It was a good day. Dancing a bit as she cleaned, Gwen was almost not surprised to find Arthur standing beside her television, staring at her.

“Are you some peeping tom?” Gwen asked. “Do you like spying on girls?”

“What?” Arthur spluttered indignantly. It was the first time he had seemed annoyed, or engaged with the present. “I do not spy on women.”

“Then what are you doing here? Why do you keep haunting me?” Gwen asked, feeling much braver with the bright sunlight streaming through the window and Beyonce playing from her Ipod.

“I’m trying to get you to wake up.”

“I am awake,” Gwen pointed out.

“No, you’re not,” Arthur said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Morgana did this to you.”

“My cat?”

“What?”

Gwen pointed to the black cat behind Arthur. “You’re saying that my cat Morgana did something to me?”

Arthur looked very confused, eyes darting between Gwen and the cat before he shook his head. “Of course not, how could a cat put you in an enchanted sleep?”

“Enchanted sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Like magic?”

“Yes!”

Gwen sighed and her shoulder’s dropped slightly. “So I am insane.”

“What?” Arthur took a step forward. “You are many things Guinevere; brave, kind, and the best person I have ever known, but you are not insane.”

“I’ve been seeing some blonde guy for months that no one else can see, and now he’s telling me some witch with the same name as my cat put me under a spell. I’m insane. Everyone knows magic doesn’t exist,” Gwen tears claw at her throat, and pinch the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. By the time she had got them under control, Arthur was gone.

\----

“He thinks your in some kind of enchanted sleep?” Elena asked. “So ... he’s insane?”

“Wouldn’t that mean I’m insane?” Gwen sighed into her drink. “It figures my mind would come up with this perfect man, with this body which is just ....”

“Well, you can’t have everything,” Elena commiserated. “At least you got some crazy hot sex dreams out of it.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Are you going to let him back in?” Elena asked.

“What do you mean, let him back in? I never let him in to begin with, he just appeared, constantly,” Gwen said.

“If you let him back in, everything will change,” Elena commented idly. “If you don’t, I imagine it will stay the same.”

“You mean if I let him I will get so crazy there is no turning back?” Gwen asked.

“Or you will get your answers.”

\----

_“I’m sorry, the number you’ve dialed is out of service, please hang up and try your call again.”_

\---

_“This is the magic shop, home to all your Dungeon and Dragon’s needs, we’re unable to get the phone right now. Please leave your name and number and we will get back to you as soon as we can!”_

\----

He appeared the following night. Gwen was standing beside her bed, waiting, hoping he would.

“Who am I?” Gwen asked as soon as she saw him. If this man was a ghost, than he obviously had her mixed up with someone.

“You are Guinevere, my wife,” Arthur said, sounding very put upon.

“But, I’m not married. Okay? My name is Gwen Smith. My father, Tom, he’s a mechanic and lives with my mother less than an hour away. My brother Elyan is helping at their garage. I studied political science in university and my best friend growing up was Merlin Emerson,” Gwen ranted. “Or, at least, I thought I was. But I call my parents and I’m told their number is out of service and Merlin is a magic shop and even Elena is starting to act a little strange. My life was perfect before you showed up. Now ... I don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re Guinevere,” Arthur said softly, reaching out. Gwen flinched as his hands rested on her shoulders. Looking up into the concerned blue eyes above her, Gwen felt her pulse pick up.

“You can touch me.”

“Of course I can,” Arthur said, raising one hand to cup her cheek and gently run his fingertips over her cheeks.

“I didn’t think ghosts could do that,” Gwen admitted, her brain seemed unable to get past Arthur touching her.

“I’m not a ghost,” Arthur muttered, stepping even closer so that their bodies were barely touching.

“How is this even possible?” Gwen asked.

“You know, a long time ago, you broke a spell I was under with a kiss,” Arthur said, his eyes staring at her lips, running his thumb over the bottom lip. “Do you think it’ll work this time?”

Trying to calm her erratic heartbeat, Gwen shrugged. “Worth a try.”

\----

Gwen woke up to find an anxious looking Merlin and Gaius hovering around her bedside and Arthur laying in bed beside her. Her head was pounding, and her entire body ached when she tried to sit up.

“What happened?” Gwen asked frantically, trying to get out of bed, but finding her muscles weak and useless. Everything seemed painful.

“Gwen,” Merlin warned, trying to stop her from getting up. “You’ve been out for a couple of months. You shouldn’t try to move too much.”

“Merlin is right your Highness,” Gaius said.

“I was ... for months?” Gwen asked, feeling confused.

“What do you remember?” Arthur asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Gwen said. “I don’t remember anything.”

\----

A week later a maid will ask Gwen what song she is singing.

“Oh, just Single Ladies by Beyonce,” she’ll answer without thinking.

It will only be after the maid asks what a Beyonce is that Gwen will be as confused by what she sang and where the song comes from.

\---

“Where’s your friend?” The bartender asks. His grey beard is trimmed snug to his face and if you looked past the weathered face, it is possible to see how he might have been good looking in his youth.

“Oh, she had to go back home,” Elena says, trying to sound nonchalant, but unable to hide her sad frown.

“Well, maybe you can go visit her,” he says.

“Nah, I like this time better,” Elena shrugs, ignoring the confused arch of the bartenders eyebrow. “Besides I’ve heard rumours that the whole group of them are a bit of reincarnation buffs. I much prefer the more traditional time travel approach, but who knows, maybe I can hunt down modern, more fun versions of them.”

Laughing, the bartender refills her drink. “Oh, you’re an odd one Elena.”

“You’ve no idea.”

  


  



End file.
